She was looking at the dog sitting loyally in the aisle just outside the wooden barrier of the courtroom. His name was Charlie, a golden retriever with soft, wise eyes and a red vest that said Service Dog, Do Not Pet.
Lila had only connected to three people in the last two years.
The bruises healed. But something inside her voice didn’t. No therapist could break through.
No medication helped. Only Charlie could. The court had allowed the dog to go with her because, as her psychologist had shared, Charlie wasn’t just a normal animal, he was a bridge.
